


Reflections

by silverforest57



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverforest57/pseuds/silverforest57
Summary: During the celebrations after Team Europe's win, Rafa reflects on his relationship with Roger and the importance of the Laver Cup to them both.





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic here after a long break but the Laver Cup was such an amazing experience that it inspired me to write again! It took me a while to get into it and it kind of diverged from how I first envisaged the story. This is Rafa in reflective, almost philosophical mode which may not ring true but it's the way it evolved. Still a bit unsure about it but it may set me off writing fics again. Fairly short with little dialogue.
> 
> This is work of fiction. No disrespect to the people portrayed in this story of whose lives I have no knowledge.

I waited. No need to rush, my moment would come. I stood to one side as Sascha moved out of Roger’s embrace, my eyes searching for his, daring him to return my gaze. He stood alone now and for a second he seemed lost; I willed him to turn to me. His eyes widened as he saw me and with an imperceptible intake of breath the broadest smile crossed his lips, mirroring mine and wrapping us both in its warmth. It seemed like eternity as I moved towards each other, although it was just a matter of seconds. Despite being the same height I stood on tip toes and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him to me, crushing our chests together. I sensed his fragility as he buried his head against my shoulder; I knew he was on the verge of breaking, the heady intensity of the last three days, the exhilaration of the win were overwhelming. This was to be expected, he was an emotional guy, but I knew how much more was contained in that moment. Our embrace was about so much more than the Laver Cup, it was about us, our love, our story.

Roger lifted his head from my shoulder and brushed a tear from his eye. “You ok?” I whispered. He nodded and half smiled. “Sure?” I asked, my arm still resting on his back. “Yeah, it’s just …” “I know, it is too much, no?” I replied softly. Too much for words, too much to absorb, our heads reeling with the enormity of it all.

I looked away and saw our team mates celebrating the victory with shared happiness, unaware of the intimate moment between us. As we joined them, flashbacks filled my mind. Roger telling me of his dream to found an event that would honour the tennis greats of the past, a chance for adversaries to work together as part of a team. I knew without hearing the words that he wanted this to be something we could share, that could be part of us, and I wanted this too. For fifteen years we had faced each other across the net, rivals for the biggest prizes in tennis, climbing to dizzying heights that we could never have envisaged. Neither of us would choose a different way but those times when we could be together as friends, as lovers, had been too few and too short. What did it all amount to? A stolen kiss in an empty locker room, his hand brushing against mine as we met on the practice court, hurried, frantic sex in an anonymous hotel room, a meal together or maybe just a coffee when we could grab time alone. Families, friends, commitments – so many other claims on our time and energy. In the physical world togetherness was hard to achieve, but that emotional connection was always there binding us one to another in a manner that defied description. 

I thought back to 2017 to that first Laver Cup. Three mad days in which we could luxuriate in each other’s company, discussing tactics, playing doubles, and most of all being able to provide that all encompassing support. It had been an epiphany of sorts. At the start I had intended to stay in the background; this was Roger’s baby and I wanted to be there for him as he had been for me at the inauguration of my Academy. Also it was new, we were both learning, wondering how things would go. It was hard to disguise our feelings though; sitting together on the bench, laughing, applauding and fist-pumping. At the thrilling climax, when Roger won his match against Kyrgios, I let go of all my inhibitions and jumped into hiYbs waiting arms. Something was released in both of us that day, we had allowed the public a glimpse of the private ‘us’ and retreat was nigh impossible. 

For this event, Roger told me that he wanted me at his side from the start. He told me frankly how alone he had felt the previous year without me there; how important it was for us to share the leadership of our team. How overjoyed I had been to hear this, I could scarcely contain my enthusiasm. I threw myself into the event with my usual intensity, giving my all to Team Europe but most of all to Roger. We openly showed our affection, almost daring others to question us. Honestly I think neither of us gave damn these last few days although it may be we will come to regret it. The happiness burst out of me as I sat by his side, his partner and his friend; three precious days had given me a look at life beyond the shadows, a life where our love wasn’t hidden –‘our grubby little secret’ as I once ruefully described it - but celebrated and accepted. Perhaps that day will never come but I can thank the Laver Cup for revealing the possibility.


End file.
